I finally got round to ordering my broadband! I put the order in last month. Before that, I was waiting for the right time (when I felt I could afford it), but then I thought if I kept waiting for the right time, it would never come. So I made it the right time, damn it!
Should be up and running by the coming weekend (fingers and eyes crossed).
What a couple of months it’s been. I’ve been using an internet cafe since September. Haven’t had an internet connection in my home since June or so. Getting reconnected will be a very welcome addition. Very.
In the meantime, I’m gonna be using a different internet cafe I found yesterday. And it was right under my nose all along – just 5 minutes away from where I work. I’ve used it before – a long time ago – but I didn’t know that, similar to the 24hr cafe I frequent, they charge 50p an hour if you buy a 10hr voucher.
It’s also cleaner and more spacious.
The 24hr cafe definitely served its purpose for me. I found it at a time when I really needed it and I’m grateful I found it when I did. It suited my pocket (50p an hour) and my night-owl tendencies. The staff there are nice, too. But it’s also quite dirty – the keyboards aren’t that clean, and the toilets are atrocious. The one time I attempted to use the loo was my last. I was desperate. But the minute I walked in, I thought ‘hell no. uh-uh.’ and walked straight back out (though for a split second or two, I did consider levitating over the crappy floor and hovering over the toilet to take a pee without my skirt or panties ever touching the bowl /or my eyes ever seeing any signature shit-marks what with the rose-tinted glasses I had on).
I also came home with a lot of viruses (erm, not from said toilet) clinging onto my memory stick on the regular.
The cafe I recently found is much better. Though it’s not open 24hours, it’ll definitely do me in the (hopefully) final week before baby broadband comes to mama.
Have a lovely week, people. The British weather’s bark is as bad as its bite at the mo’. It definitely ain’t procrastinating – oh no. Grey, raining, windy – you know the kind of windy where it’s a bit stoopid to use an umbrella ‘cos the chances are you’re still gonna get frikkin soaked and you’re better off just turning your brolly upside down your own damn self before the bloody wind does?
Yeah. That kind of weather.
I blame Gordon Brown. The Queen. And Jamie Oliver.
Don’t ask me why. I just do.
Hope the weather’s measuring up better in your neck of the woods. If so, get down on your knees and suck Mother Nature’s toes in deep gratitude.